Huzbind
by The Dark Knight's Revenge
Summary: "Do you miss your huzbind?" Chekov asks the big questions one night while him and Sulu are drinking. One thing leads to another and Sulu finds himself in a place to finally receive the intimacy and appreciation he deserves, but has some personal hurdles to overcome.


"Do you miss your huzbind?" Chekov asked, his voice making Sulu jump a bit, they'd gone so long without talking.

"What?" Sulu almost dropped his drink.

"Your huzbind. Beck een Yorktown." Chekov continued.

"H-how did you know about Keiko?" Sulu tried and failed to keep his voice steady.

"You do not talk avout a vife, zo I feegured you had a huzbind." The scotch was making Chekov's accent stronger than usual. The nineteen-year-old was at least two drinks ahead of Sulu.

"Yes." The Asian sighed. "I do miss him. Them."

"Ah, yees. Your daughter. She eez three?"

"Megumi. She's two and a half."

"Zo cute." Chekov slurred. "She az err vather's eyes."

"She looks more like her mother, I think. The resemblance to Keiko is minimal." Sulu replied.

"Vat? She eez not yours?" Chekov stared at him, slightly unfocused. It didn't take much to drink him under the table, apparently. But he was paying attention to Sulu now.

"No." Sulu finished his glass and reached for another. "Megumi's mother died in childbirth."

"How deed you find zhem?" Chekov asked, reaching for the bottle once Sulu finished pouring his drink. Sulu frowned, watching Chekov struggle not to spill the scotch and thought back to how he'd ended up here tonight next to a very drunk Russian.

* * *

Sulu rolled over, sighing. He couldn't sleep. The clock next to the bed read 0101. The ship was quiet, peaceful. He sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair. He should go and spar, try to tire himself out.

Sulu padded to the closet and was in the process of changing when his comm whistled quietly. "Sulu here." He said, peering around his still-dark room. Who would want to talk to him at this hour?

"Zulu, eet ees Chekov. I kennot zleep and vas vondering eef you vould like a drink."

"I have some scotch, come on over." Sulu replied. He wondered what was up with the Russian. Chekov had been quieter than usual, keeping to himself more often than not. He looked like he hadn't been sleeping well.

The doorbell whistled softly, indicating Chekov's quick arrival from right next door. Sulu snapped into action, pulling his Starfleet issue slacks up, tightening his belt, and grabbing for a fresh shirt.

"Enter." He said, turning away to grab the booze from his bedside drawers.

"Zulu? Eet ees dark. Should I leeve?" Chekov's voice came from the bright doorway.

"Come in, hit the lights on your way." Sulu replied, getting glasses and setting them in the sitting area.

"You are not dressed." Chekov said once the lights came up. "Em I eenteerupting something?"

"No. I couldn't sleep either. Have a seat."

"I brought wodka." Chekov said, brandishing the bottle a little bit too vigorously. He blushed as Sulu donned his shirt and hastily took a seat.

"I thought you liked scotch?" Sulu asked.

"I do. But wodka reminds me of home." Chekov replied.

"Cheers." Sulu took a sip of his first glass.

"Cheers." Chekov echoed.

That had been two hours ago. They'd worked their way through both the scotch and the vodka and had started on a bottle of brandy Sulu had hidden away. The drinks were going down easy, but Chekov was very obviously trashed and Sulu was feeling quite the buzz. The clock read 0347.

"Do you love your huzbind?" Chekov asked, surprising Sulu again. He'd let the Ensign's last question slide into steady silence and gotten lost in his thoughts.

"Ye-es." Sulu answered slowly.

"Are you heppy?" What kind of questions were these?

"I suppose…" Sulu replied. He had no idea where this was going.

"Are you sure?" Chekov was now fixing him in a level gaze over his glass. Sulu suddenly wasn't sure the Ensign was as drunk as he was pretending.

"It's hard being in space. You don't always know what's going on." Sulu began. "When we last visited Yorktown, Keiko expressed to me that he was – well, he was seeing other people. In Megumi's interest, of course. He thought it important that she have a mother figure."

"Vat kind of huzbind ees that?" Chekov said, really spilling his drink this time. "He vould rather see ozer people zan you? Vat ze hell?"

"I didn't say he wasn't allowed to." Sulu replied, trying to keep his temper in check. His emotions were running parallel to Chekov's. "I can't do anything about it."

"Vucking hell. I am zorry."

Sulu laughed in spite of himself.

"Vat?"

"Pavel, you're drunk."

Chekov let his head flop back to look at the ceiling.

"Da."

"What's been up with you?" Sulu finally asked, after the silence had stretched on a while.

"Vith me? Nuh-singk." Came the reply. Sulu didn't miss the failed attempt at an airy tone.

"Don't pull that crap with me, kid. I know something's up."

Chekov swirled his empty glass, still staring at the ceiling. He was completely splayed out on the armchair, arms and legs at all sorts of odd angles. His shirt was even riding up, exposing a strip of bare flesh that Sulu couldn't help but notice. Chekov swallowed audibly.

"You took ze peecture of your daughter off ze console last veek."

"And?"

"You fought vith your huzbind."

"And?"

"You are not married anymore, da?"

Sulu sighed, tears pricking at his eyelids. Even drunk, Chekov had found the source of his recent pain. He was thankful that the lights had long since dimmed, leaving them almost in the dark.

"You are correct. Keiko has rescinded our marriage and requested I not try to contact them again."

Chekov whistled.

"But where are you going with this?"

Chekov was silent for so long, Sulu thought he'd fallen asleep.

"Pavel?"

"Da?"

"Why are you suddenly so worried about me and my family?"

"Beecoz… you are my friend." Chekov rolled his head up to fix him in his gaze.

"You've been a recluse all this time because you were worried about me?"

"Da. And niet…"

"Shit, Pavel. I am too drunk to catch where you are going with this. I can't play games right now!" Sulu found himself snapping.

"I am zorry. I vill leave." Chekov said sadly, peeling himself out of the armchair.

"I'm sorry. Chekov, I-"

"Goodnight lieutenant." Chekov said, not looking his way and moving unsteadily to the door.

"Wait, Pavel."

Chekov slowly turned around, wavering on his feet. His blue eyes were shiny in the dark, like he was about to cry.

"Please stay?" Sulu found himself asking. "I don't want you to leave."

"I d-do not vant to leave." Chekov stuttered.

"Come here."

Chekov stumbled over the where Sulu was standing, stopping only a foot away and swaying slightly on his feet. Sulu could feel his warm breath on his chin.

"Pavel, I-I-"

Chekov's lips were on his before he even knew what was happening. The kiss was sloppy and tasted like alcohol. But Sulu latched on like Chekov's lips were air and he were drowning.

"Lieu-tenant." Chekov gasped when they pulled apart. "I am s-" Sulu kissed him again, harder this time. He pulled Chekov's hips to him, his fingers holding on hard enough to bruise.

"Zulu, I…" Chekov began, staring up at him in that same, blue-eyed, slightly unfocused way.

"Shh." Sulu bent his head and kissed the Russian again. Chekov responded eagerly and sloppily.

A small, warm hand hit Sulu's belt and began fumbling with it. Sulu pulled away.

"Pavel, I-"

"Zorry Lieutenant, I couldn't help myself-"

"Shh. I was going to ask if you knew what you were doing."

"Vat?"

"Have you done this before?"

"…Niet."

Sulu sighed. They were drunk.

"I don't want to take advantage of you."

"Niet, Zulu. I know vat I vant."

Sulu tighted his grip on Chekov's hips, fighting with himself. He could feel the heat radiating off the younger man's body, even through their clothes. He hadn't been intimate with someone in years.

"Liet me make you heppier. Pleez…" Chekov pleaded softly, fixing him in another wide-eyed stare. Sulu bit his lip, then made his decision, leaning in to capture Chekov's lips in another sloppy kiss, which Chekov melted into. They shuffled back towards the bed, Chekov's steps more unsteady than ever. Sulu practically had to hold him up by his hips and lips to keep him from hitting the floor. The kiss was all teeth and tongues and saliva.

Sulu's knees hit the back of the bed and he teetered back, helped by Chekov's drunken weight. They fell on the messy comforters, still lip-locked. In between kisses Chekov was muttering something in Russian that Sulu could barely hear, let alone understand. Sulu pushed the younger off and bit his lip, suddenly unsure.

"Niet, vhy did you stop?" Chekov mumbled.

"Go to sleep." Sulu said, rolling away and standing up. The room pitched a little, but he found his footing.

"But, but…" Chekov whined. His eyes were barely open. Sulu tossed the blankets over the Ensign, satisfied when he heard soft snores within seconds.

Sulu stood there a moment, watching Chekov sleep. Sandy curls had fallen over his closed eyes, making for a lovely picture. Sulu sighed, feeling his libido rage.

A moment later, his belt hit the floor and his hand slipped beneath the waistband of his Starfleet-issue slacks.


End file.
